Wild Horses
by celtic33
Summary: B/B try to catch a murderer and obscure that line of theirs
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **as this is my first foray into chapter stories I want to be clear that I own nothing except the writing_

It was a beautiful garden wedding complete with ornamental columns, ice sculptures, and a string quartet playing Pachelbel's Canon inviting the guests to find their seats. Temperance was starting to make her way to her seat when she noticed how lovely the whole affair looked. _'Very high end,' _she thought.

While the other guests were still finding their seats she noticed to the side of the podium was a large gilded birdcage filled with numerous white doves. _'They must be planning to release them after the big moment,'_ she thought. _'This is really a well structured __arrangement__and it looks exactly like how my wedding will be.'_

Taken aback at her own thought her throat got trapped between a hard swallow and a gasp resulting in an embarrassingly loud coughing fit. An elderly man in front of her turned and asked if she was alright.

Nodding her head yes she regained her composure although her eyes were still wide like saucers as she heard her own thoughts replay over again. _'My wedding? Where did that come from? I don't even want to get married and I don't believe it's a necessary ceremony anyway. If two people love each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together what did it matter what label was applied to them.'_

She was startled away from her thoughts by the change in music. The groomsmen started walking down the aisle one after the other as she noticed the photographer was taking pictures of the event. The flash at machine gun machine gun speed capturing everything.

She overheard a woman exclaim, "How cute." Another woman giggled, "How adorable." She craned her neck to see what the commotion was about but couldn't get a clear glimpse.

She turned to her date only to realize she was sitting alone. _'That's odd. Where's my date? Did I come here alone?' _She looked up at the groomsmen standing shoulder to shoulder. _'I don't know any of these people.' _She started scanning the congregation for any familiar faces.

_'Ah ha!' _she thought as she spied those brownish blonde curls that could only belong to Parker Booth. He had finally made his way to the podium carrying a little blue plush pillow with ribbons on it. _'He must've been who those women were cackling about.' _She turned her head to see her partner Seeley Booth making his way down the aisle and taking his spot just to the left of the other groomsmen.

She smiled at him and he smiled back but quickly turned away to focus his attention on the aisle. _'Isn't that the position usually reserved for the groom? Is Seeley Booth getting married? To whom? What is going on here?' _Her thoughts raced as she started breathing heavily like marathon runner finally crossing the finish line.

Her slack jawed face did nothing to hide the fact that she was completely stunned. Her heart raced violently as though it were flying down a corridor at some ridiculous speed only if the corridor was quickly getting narrower and narrower. She could not stop looking at him. Her partner and friend. _'Why didn't I know about this? Well clearly I did I mean I'm dressed up and sitting here as a guest but why don't I remember any of this?'_

Just then she noticed Booth turn around to face the priest with a woman in a wedding gown standing next to him. _'Who the hell is she? Why can't I see her face?' _

The ceremony flew by and she saw Booth and his bride walk back up the aisle as people 

clapped their hands. She still couldn't see the brides face but she saw the giddy smile on her partners face as her heart plunged into a deep sadness. _'At least he's happy. But why am I so distraught? How will this change things? Oh my god here he comes.'_

"Hi Bones, I'm so glad you could make it. Rebecca and I wanted to thank you for coming."

"Rebecca," she said while trying to hide her exasperation. "When did you get back together with Rebecca?"

"A couple of months ago, remember? She said she wanted to give Parker a traditional home life, you know, a nuclear family."

_'Well that seems rational, I guess,' _she thought as she saw him walk away to greet some of the other guests.

"Tempe," she heard a voice call her name. She spun around to see who was calling her but still not recognizing any faces. "Sweetie, pick up it's me."

Temperance sat up and bolted out of bed to her phone while shutting off the answering machine. "Hello," she said as she surveyed her surroundings. _'I'm definitely in my apartment. It must've been a dream.'_

"Bren, did I wake you?"

"Yeah you actually pulled me out a dream I was having and Booth was in it."

"Details woman!! Well once you get to work, you do realize the time don't you?"

"Um, yeah it's," as her eyes scanned the room settling on the clock as it read 10:30. "Holy shit is 10:30! Ange I overslept. I'll be there in a 20 minutes."

As she walked into the Jeffersonian, Angela immediately strong armed her into her office and shut the door. "Okay, spill."

"Angela it's only a dream, it doesn't mean anything," Temperance sat with a defiant look on her face.

"Brennan if you don't tell me what that dream was I will make up the most lascivious sex dream about you and Booth and spread it so fast around here that everyone will know," knowing full well she would never really do that but sometimes blackmail was the only way to get her friend to open up.

"Fine," Temperance said as she looked sternly at her best friend. As she finished retelling the dream Angela looked as surprised as her friend.

"Rebecca? Really?" as Tempe nodded. "That's got to be uncomfortable even if it was a dream."

"But the thing that really hurt me about it was that he's not Rebecca's Booth anymore and hasn't been for years. He's my Booth."

"Wait a minute hold the phone," Angela squealed. "Did you just call that hunky partner of yours 'my booth'? Since when did you get possessive about him?"  


"I don't mean my Booth," she said stammering a little while trying to find the words to clarify. "I meant _our_ Booth."

"Our Booth?"

"Yeah as in part of our team at the Jeffersonian."

"Sweetie you know he doesn't belong to us right?"

"Of course I know that. Slavery has been outlawed in the United States for," she stopped talking for a second as she noticed the gigantic smile on her friends face. "But he does belong to us. He belongs to me, he's my frigging Booth!"

"Sweetie I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I still own nothing and thank you for your reviews.

"Agent Booth?"

"Yes sir?" Booth looked up from the paperwork he had been completing and saw Deputy Director Sam Cullen standing in the doorway of his office.

"Whispering Willows Country Club, local PD's waiting for you. Some bones on the edge of a pond."

"I'm on it," he replied as he stood up and started dialing his partner while walking to the elevator. "Bones, we've got case, I'm on my way over."

They had been driving for a few minutes in silence and the sound of his own heartbeat was ringing in his ears like church bells. Silence was fine, when it was called for. He had forced himself to be silent on numerous missions in the past where if his presence was known it would have meant certain death. He didn't mind the silence but he preferred talking to his partner.

"Are you alright Bones," he asked curiously.

"Why?" she asked incredulously. "Don't I look alright?" as a wry smile came over her face.

"No Bones, I mean yes, you always look great but that's not what I mean. You seem distracted."

"No everything's fine. I was just thinking about something Angela said earlier today."

"Oh," he replied as if he were an inquisitive child asking the logistics of Santa Claus delivering presents getting told it was Christmas magic. "So what did she say?"

"Booth," she paused while turning to face her partner, "are you prodding?"

"No," he said as he lied through his teeth. He has interrogated enough people in his time to know when someone is up to something. This he knew was no interrogation. "I was just wondering what you were thinking about because you seemed lost in your thoughts."

"It was just a conversation debating how certain physiological stimuli can trigger unconscious responses." She knew she could indirectly answer any question in a vague enough manner to satisfy even the most hardened FBI agents.

"Okay then," as the smallest of smirks emerged on his face. He knew she could whip up a smokescreen that had enough of an infrastructure that it couldn't be classified as a lie but was also hardly the truth.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian," as he flashed his badge and shook hands with the officer.

"Lieutenant Jim Driscoll, nice to meet you," he said politely as he turned to lead the partners to the scene.

"What have you got?"

"Well Agent Booth, the groundskeeper was trimming some weeds near the edge of a pond that runs along the edge of the property and noticed the remains." He brushed aside some tall grass that hadn't been trimmed by the groundskeeper.

"Well Bones, it looks like we've got ourselves a hand."

Brennan finished pulling on examination gloves and knelt down to have a closer look. "You're right about that Booth. Based on extensive damage to the cartilage around the phalanges and metacarpals this person suffered from severe arthritis suggesting this individual was probably a senior citizen at least sixty years of age."

Driscoll seemed amazed that she could determine all of that just by glancing at some bones. "She's good," he muttered to Booth who nodded in agreement.

Brennan stood up and looked at her partner, "I'm going to need this pond scoured for particulates, soil samples and."

Booth cut her off turning to the FBI forensics agents that were awaiting their orders. "You heard her and while you're at it check the rest of the pond for any more bones."

They started walking back to his SUV but he noticed that she had wrinkled her brow and scrunched up her nose a little. "What's the matter?"

"You cut me off Booth," she replied with just an ounce of pain in her voice. "I was expressing what I would need to properly perform my job function and you cut me off."

"Come on Bones," he answered unaware that they had stopped walking and had turned to face each other. "I've seen you do this a thousand times. I knew what you were going to say."

"Whether I've said it a thousand times or a million times is hardly the point," her voice raised in anger. "Booth, do you respect me?"

He felt an uncomfortable twinge in between his shoulders that made him spread his shoulders back puffing out his chest ever so slightly hoping to relieve the tension that was mounting. "Of course I respect you both as a scientist and as my partner."

'_So here is the alpha male psyche at its most dominant,' _she thought. "Well you wanted me here for my expertise and you can't just cut me off because you think you know what I'm going to say. Making suppositions or conjectures over what may or may not happen is illogical."

"I'm truly sorry Bones," he said as apologetically as possible. "I only gave them the order because that's my job to do. At a crime scene I'm in charge they aren't supposed to act until they get approval first. It falls under my jurisdiction."

"Well let me at least finish saying what requirements I need and then you can tell them what to do. We're supposed to be equal partners right?"

"Yeah Bones," he replied while raising his right hand imitating a swearing in of a witness. "I solemnly swear that I won't intentionally cut you off again and will try as hard as possible not to step on your toes." He then gave her his million gigawatt smile.

She smirked back. "One of these times I'm going to throw you for a loop and you won't know what hit you," she teased. "You know, I bet you they only listen to you because you have a gun. I'm sure they'd listen to me too if I had a gun."

"You're not getting a gun bones."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I still own nothing but I want to thank you for your reviews and now on to the story and for those of you really curious about the timeframe it occurs definitely before Wannabe in the Weeds

Location back at the Jeffersonian

"So," Angela prodded with a gigantic eager smile that had just a little luster of mischief, "did you talk to him yet."

Brennan shot back a deadly glare before recomposing herself. "No I have not, and I'd appreciate it if we did not have this discussion here."

"Well I'm sure that you've at least been thinking about it, I mean come on sweetie," she paused only to grasp her friends hand and to reestablish eye contact, "it's not every day that you have a dream that leaves you hungry for Hunky McHunkerson."

"I don't know what that means but if you're referring to Booth as a sex object, I prefer to not objectify a person as if he was a slab of meat."

"I know, but you can't deny you've never checked out his ass."

"Angela, of course I've noticed that Booth is an attractive well-structured man," she paused just enough for her cheeks to flush ever so slightly which of course Angela noticed, "and that he has obvious characteristics that would make him an ideal mate for breeding purposes."

"Breeding purposes? You sure know how to throw romance right out the window." Angela paused and rolled her eyes before returning on her friend's, "well at least you've noticed how sexy he is."

Brennan took her hand away from her friend's and silently glared at her. She was still uncomfortable identifying her emotions let alone dealing with them. She had told herself numerous times that emotions were irrational but she had to admit that sometimes the irrational can upset a person's internal balance and this dream had definitely affected her equilibrium.

Her thought process was interrupted by a knock on her office door. "Dr. Brennan, the remains that Booth had sent over have just arrived." She looked up at her boss Dr. Camille Saroyan with acknowledgment nodded her head and the three women walked off to the platform.

"Is everything alright Dr. Brennan?" Cam asked. "You look a little flustered."

Before she could respond Angela chimed in, "she had an interesting dream last night and she's been analyzing it since then."

Brennan's eyes widened and she smacked her friend in the arm not to cause pain but hard enough to get the message across that she was not happy that her friend had spilled the beans.

"Well dreams have been said to be the gateways of subconscious desires," Cam stated earnestly while noticing that Brennan had become uncomfortable but continued anyway because Dr. Brennan had 

rarely looked uncomfortable and she felt like exploring. "Freud once said psychoanalytic dream-interpretation were 'the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious'."

At this point Dr. Jack Hodgins walked over and invited himself into the conversation, "Oooh, dream analysis is a hobby of mine. Okay, who had the dream?"

"I do not need help analyzing my dream," Brennan interjected. "And besides we have work to do."

"Carl Jung believed that Freud's views were simplistic and naïve," Hodgins said. "Dreams are sometimes considered to be prophetic or even omens. In ancient Egypt, some high priests main purposes were to serve as the pharaoh's dream interpreters."

"Shaman often ingested peyote to induce hallucinogenic dream like experiences that they believed was direct communication with their deities," Dr. Zack Addy interjected. "In fact, some researchers have hypothesized that dreams give people direct access to their spirit and that the inner consciousness could provide answers to all possible questions, given the proper awareness, that is."

Booth had walked up to the platform noticing the discussion. He turned to Zack, "wow, I think I actually understood what you said through your squintspeak." He focused his gaze on his partner and noticed how frustrated she looked. "Look, Bones, I know you don't like psychology but I believe a person has a dream for a reason."

"I had a dream once where I married George Michaels," Angela said. "Well that was before I knew he what his sexual orientation was."

Hodgins chimed in, "I had a dream when I was little that I was Luke Skywalker but Dart Vader looked more like the Michelin Man and instead of light sabres we were using Twizzlers."

Cam said, "I remember once when I was just becoming a teenager I had just seen _Say Anything_ with John Cusack and I had a dream that night that he was standing outside my window with his boombox playing _In Your Eyes_ by Peter Gabriel. "

"Oh that is so romantic," Angela responded smiling and clasping her hands, "I love that movie. It's such a great movie."

"And a great song, too," Booth added while he started whistling the melody.

Cam broke into song, "Love I get so lost, sometimes days pass and this emptiness fills my heart."

Angela and Hodgins joined in, "When I want to run away I drive off in my car but whichever way I go I come back to the place you are."

Zack and Brennan looked at each other in disbelief that the platform of the Jeffersonian Institute had suddenly broken into a musical production. Brennan had eyed the still unpacked remains that awaited them but somehow her furrowed brow was fading away and a small smile was emerging on her face as she watched her friends and colleagues sing. _'After all,' _she thought, _'it is a good song.'_

Booth had stopped whistling and had joined into the impromptu concert.

"All my instincts, they return  
and the grand facade, so soon will burn  
without a noise, without my pride  
I reach out from the inside  
in your eyes  
the light the heat  
in your eyes  
I am complete  
in your eyes  
I see the doorway to a thousand churches  
in your eyes  
the resolution of all the fruitless searches  
in your eyes  
I see the light and the heat  
in your eyes  
oh, I want to be that complete  
I want to touch the light  
the heat I see in your eyes."

At that moment they quartet stopped singing and started giggling while some employees in the background started clapping.

Booth looked over at his partner and gazed into her eyes. _'God her eyes are captivating to say the least. It's as if a perfect sapphire and a perfect emerald had been smashed together leaving a tranquil sea of aqua in their wake.'_ Neither one blinked for what seemed like an eternity. _'Love, I don't like to see so much pain, so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away, I get so tired of working so hard for our survival, I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive.'_ He let out a soft sigh as he noticed the laughter was slowing down. '_Damn that stupid line. Why the hell did I put that there in the first place? Oh yeah, for her protection. Not from me but for me because I don't know if I could live with myself if something happened to her.'_

"Well," he said as he put up his hands in exasperation, "I'd better let you guys start working." He turned to Angela, Hodgins, and Cam. "Thanks for the fun but duty calls." He turned and walked away pausing once more to look back and noticed his partner was still locked in on his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I still own nothing thanks for the reviews and on with the show

Dr. Brennan looked at her friend Angela with the utmost curiosity. "What's going on?" She had known Angela for years now and could read her facial expressions moderately well. She knew she had been getting better at that with coaching from her partner but the look on her friend's face was mixed. There was a little bit of disgust, frustration, surprise, but with a little twinkle of mischief in her eyes. _'This can't be good.'_

"We need to talk." And with that Angela grabbed her friend's arm and was dragging Dr. Brennan to her office.

"Angela, why do you feel it's necessary to forcibly drag me to your office? You could've just asked."

"This is serious." She looked at her friend and her face widened into a smile that was bright enough to have caused the polar ice caps to melt. "Did you see it?"

"See what exactly?"

"Sweetie, how can you see the smallest iota of evidence on a bone and be so completely blind to what's right in front of your eyes?"

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about Ange, but if you're referring to Booth singing then yes I saw that. I must say I'm a little surprised at how good a singer he is."

"Yes he is a surprisingly good singer, but Brennan, I'm not talking about that exact point. I'm talking about the fact that he was singing one of the most romantic songs of 1980s filmdom to you, not at you, but to you."

Her heart started racing. _'He was singing to me? Really? Angela is usually spot on about these things so I'll have to trust her judgment.'_

"Angela, I'm still having trouble sorting out exactly what I'm feeling other than a tsunami in my abdomen and slightly foggy feeling in my head that I don't even know how to describe."

"I know, isn't it great?" replied Angela pulling her friend into a warm embrace. "Emotions like these are hard to deal with and you need to give yourself some time to figure it out."

"Thanks Ange."

"But that doesn't mean that I won't stop bringing things up and providing you with more evidence to make a clearer judgment. I know you need facts and don't rush into things without them so that's what I'll do."

The friendly embrace was interrupted by Zack knocking on the door. "Dr. Brennan," he said. "I just completed the preliminary examinations. Would you like to take a look at them?"

"Them?"

"Yes Dr. Brennan," Zack stated matter of factly, "them, connoting plurality as there are two bodies and they appear to have been disposed of in sections."

Angela scrunched up her nose, "in sections? Eww."

"Dr. Brennan, this might be a good time to inform Agent Booth what we have so far."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He approached the security guard station at the Jeffersonian when Stan, one of the senior security guards, stopped him.

"Good morning Agent Booth. Are you ready to catch another black hat today?"

Booth smiled and nodded, "I certainly hope so, Stan."

"What in the world is that on your belt? Is that another one of your collection?" Stan motioned towards Booth's belt buckle. "It looks to me like the bottom half of a guitar. I can't reckon on what the writing says, though."

"Yeah it's the body of an electric guitar, bright red, with a musical note where the belt loops in, and it says 'Rock Star'. It also has a bottle opener on it too. And the best thing is that it goes with my socks." With that Agent booth lifted his trouser leg a few inches to show Stan the bright red socks with guitars on them.

They both laughed and Booth continued walking into the Jeffersonian. Once he swiped his keycard momentarily disarming the security system he strolled up onto the platform where his favorite squints were busy examining the remains.

He made eye contact with his partner and greeted everyone, "Morning all, so what have you figured out?"

"We have two bodies, male and female, both approximately 62-66 years old," Dr. Brennan said. "The bodies have also been dismembered and there appears to be serrated scrapings suggesting they were sawed into pieces, probably post-mortem. Zack will identify the blade and ultimately the type of tool used."

Booth responded, "It makes sense, they were killed and then cut up for easy dumping. The pond where they were found bordered the country club, it could've have been a member. There are also woodlands on the other side of the pond and a rural fire road that would be pretty secluded too. Have you figured out how they died?"

Zack chimed in, "Yes, blunt trauma to their heads."

Booth was quite surprised. "Both of them? So you're telling me that they both died from a head trauma."

"Yes again," Zack responded. "In fact the same trauma to approximately the same location of the craniums within a half inch. Damage to both of their occipital bone indicates the location of the brunt of the impact while severe indentations on the parietal bone suggest an upward glancing blow."

Dr. Brennan added, "But that's not all. Along with the remains and particulates from the pond we've also got the murder weapon."

She pointed to another table where the weapon was resting. Booth asked incredulously, "Is that the blade to one of those office paper cutters?" Brennan nodded as Hodgins walked onto the platform.

"Based on the corrosion of steel particulates imbedded in the skulls, the remains were in that pond for almost a year. Oh yeah, and those particulates matched the steel casing in the cutter. The blade itself is stainless steel and is pretty much unchanged. The animal life pretty much stripped away most of the flesh and the absence of fibers in the particulates suggest they weren't wearing clothes when they were dumped."

Angela walked over the platform. "I've pretty much got the scenario down in the Angelator if anyone is ready." They all turned and followed Angela.

"It appears that the cutter was swung at an upward angle striking each of the victims with the corner of the cutter. It is physically impossible that the two were both struck at the same time but they were definitely struck by the same person."

Dr. Brennan interjected, "Angela have you finished updating the tissue markers?"

"Yup, right here," she replied as she changed the graphic on the Angelator to that of the victims. "I ran them through the missing person's database and I give you a Sam and Mary Champlain."

Booth took out his cell phone and started dialing, "Thank you Angela."

Hodgins walked over to his fiancée and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You're so beautiful when you give them their faces back."

Zack turned to Dr. Brennan, "This case seems to be going in a different order than they usually do."

"What do you mean?"

"Well usually we don't have the weapon at the same time as the identification," he said. "It seems unusual to me that the murderer dumped the weapon at the same location as the bodies."

Booth interjected, "It's actually not that unusual for a first time murderer to dump all evidence in the same location. They're usually scared, not thinking clearly, and sloppy which will help us in identifying the perp because they'll forget to clean something."

Dr. Brennan added, "And that's where we come in and screw them to a board."

Booth looked inquisitive for a moment then let out a chuckle. "You mean nail them to a wall. I've got their address, you ready Bones?"

"Let me get my coat."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

Location: Booth's FBI issued SUV on the way to the Champlain's house

Agent Booth is driving towards the victims' house in silence while his partner Dr. Brennan reads through the missing persons file on the Sam and Mary Champlain. He glances over at her to see her extremely focused expression. He's seen it before but only during their most difficult cases.

He knows that she likes solving puzzles and is so obsessed with finding out the truth that they will solve this case eventually. _'She would've been a great agent but I probably never would've met her and besides there's plenty of agents. What the world needs are more Forensic Anthropologists to help put criminals behind bars. Especially because I don't want to share her.'_ A grin slowly creeps over his face.

She looks up from the file and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, "This doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?"

"Well Hodgins figured out the bodies were in the pond for almost a year but they were only reported missing a couple of months ago."

Booth turned to look at her, "Well they were a retired couple with no kids and virtually no family members except some cousins on the west coast. It isn't that uncommon for a couple like that to go missing for awhile before being noticed."

"Exactly," she said as she closed the file on her lap. "So who reported that they were missing?"

"I don't know, but according to the file, it was called in anonymously via a pay phone in the city."

"So what does your gut tell you right now?"

"Whoa," he responded almost choking with surprise. "Since when you have started relying on my gut before we've examined a potential crime scene? That's not like you. Are you feeling alright?"

"I feel fine Booth," she replied with a laugh, "just satisfying a simple curiosity, that's all."

"Okay, I'll play along," he said as he flashed his big charm smile. "My gut's torn between two things. First is the killer feels guilty and needs to report them missing because he can't deal with the severity of his crime but he doesn't want to get caught so he does it anonymously. It's not a neighbor or other 

concerned citizen because they would've called from their houses and not driven to the city to find a secluded pay phone."

"That makes sense so far."

"And second it's either an accomplice or a witness and they called for the same reason that I gave before."

"Which one are you leaning towards?"

He shakes his head with another charm smile. "I'm not telling you," he says in a singsong teasing voice.

She rolls her eyes and slaps him on the arm tenderly. "That's very professional of you," she retorted in a sarcastic tone. "We're supposed to be partners bouncing ideas off each-other. We don't withhold information."

"We are," he said in a very serious FBI sounding voice. "I rely on you to find the evidence objectively and I don't want to cloud your judgment by steering you any specific direction."

"Steering my judgment?" she said as her voice raised sounding irritated with pained expression on her face. "The facts don't lie Booth. I don't let anything cloud my judgment before we have all the facts." _'You of all people should know that.'_

He didn't need to look at her to tell she was fuming and hurt by his ill attempt at humor. "Truth is," he said in a regretful tone, "my gut is torn between the two options." He paused stammering at his words, "I didn't want to, what I mean to say is my intention wasn't to hurt you or imply that you couldn't remain objective or anything of that nature."

His voice trailed off but his mind was racing. _'What the hell was that all about? She knows I think she's professional. There's definitely something that's bothering her but why won't she say it? She just said we don't withhold information but she's definitely holding something back.'_

Noticing that she didn't respond to his apology he was about to continue but was interrupted by her phone ringing.

He watched her lips as she talked but he wasn't paying attention to anything she was saying into the phone. The way the light shimmered off her bright red lipstick. _'Whoa, when did you start wearing bright red lipstick? Dammit Seeley you're a Federal Agent it's your job to catch details like this. How could I have missed it earlier? Why today, did she start wearing bright crimson colored lipstick?'_

She turned to look at him as she put the phone away relaying information but he didn't hear any of it. He was too entrenched in thought to even realize he had parked the vehicle. _'With that shade of lipstick and the brilliant blue of her eyes, such a contrast but compliment each-other so well. Something about the two colors seems so familiar I wish I could place it.'_

"Booth," she said as she was trying to get her partners attention to no avail. She tried again louder, "Booth!"

"Huh?" he said as he refocused his gaze from her lips and eyes zooming out to see her whole face complete with a slight grin on it. "Sorry Bones, I was thinking about the case." _'Good one Seeley.'_ "Who was on the phone?"

"It was Zack," she replied "Both him and Hodgins tracked the paper cutter down to make and model. It's about fifty-two years old and the company only sold about two hundred units in 1956. They were discontinued because of the dimensions of the frame as it took up too much space and the blade was too long and cumbersome. The following model was a quarter the size."

"Ok so we're hoping the rest of the paper cutter is in the house," he said as he was pointing to the Champlain's house.

"One more thing Booth," she said with a devilish grin, "how do my eyes and lips relate to the case?"

**A/N:** ok this chapter is ending up to big so I've had to break it up into two chapters. The next one will be posted shortly.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

Location inside the Champlain's house

"Well there's no sign of forced entry so," Booth said turning to his partner and rolling his hand as if fishing for the correct reply.

"So the victims knew the murderer?" she replied knowing that was the correct response. "You know Booth, thank you for continuing to quiz me on the finer points of the criminal mind but I don't think this is completely necessary."

"I know it's not necessary but I'm just bouncing ideas off of you too."

She just glared at him. She knew she had said that during their last argument and here it's only been five minutes and he's already using her words against her. _'I've known some stubborn men in my time but for the life of me I have no idea why I let him get to me so much.' _Her first impulse was to launch her own verbal attack resulting in her opponent, her partner, her verbal sparring partner, to be left sniveling in the fetal position but instead she looked into his brown eyes. She felt them piercing into her almost as if each gaze was slowly punching a hole in the walls around her emotions that would cause them to crumble like a sand castle against a typhoon. _'Get a grip Tempe; you're a strong independent woman. You've knocked out a gang leader, broken a serial killer's arm, and shot a senator's murderous aide so why are there butterflies in your stomach?'_

"I found the paper cutter in the home office," exclaimed Booth. "And the blade arm is missing. You know Zack and Hodgins are right this thing is huge almost four feet long. It's so old it could be a collector's item, if it weren't also a murder weapon as well."

Dr. Brennan had opened up her kit bag and had been looking for any blood residue. "Well if they were murdered here, the killer sure cleaned up the place pretty well."

"Yeah well hopefully he missed something."

"Hey Booth, I've got some discoloration on the wallpaper over here." She took out her camera and started taking pictures of the area while booth came over with his measuring tape.

"Whatever was here was approximately thirty-eight inches tall and forty-six inches across."

"What do you think it was?" she asked.

"I have no idea," he replied, "but if we don't find it in the house it's probably evidence."

"Judging by the discoloration whatever was hanging here seems to have been hanging here for a long time."

"It could've been a wedding portrait or some other type of art."

"What did they do for work?" she asked.

"He was a retired CPA but based on his tax records he kept a small clientele that he still did their taxes, probably to supplement their retirement. She was a paralegal."

"Booth, I've got a finger print on the doorway leading to the back door."

"Ok, well let's hope it belongs to our murderer."

"There's also an imprint of a shoe on an envelope on the kitchen counter. It looks like a size nine men's dress shoe. What's it doing on the counter?"

"My guess," he sighed before continuing, "there was a struggle and the mail fell off the counter and when the killer cleaned up his mess he put the mail back on the counter but didn't think there'd be a shoe imprint on it so he didn't look."

"That seems logical."

"Why thank you," he said as he bent over in mock bow. He looked around the room and took out his measuring tape again and locked it at four feet. He started swinging it around. "I think that this room is the only one with enough clearance to be able to swing that paper cutter without hitting a wall or furniture. If they were killed here it was probably in this room."

"I've got blood Booth."

"Where?" he asked as he walked over to where she was now standing.

"Here, on the bottom half of the light switch. The top has clearly been cleaned but the underside of the switch was missed."

"They always slip up, but really who would ever think to clean the underside of a light switch?"

"I do," she said matter of factly. "I clean my living space very thoroughly. Dust particles can harbor harmful bacteria or viruses that can have a detrimental effect on inhabitants of an enclosed space."

"I never pictured you being the Martha Stewart type."

"I don't know what that means," she replied.

He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, "I know Bones, it doesn't matter anyway."

"So, is this where his being sloppy is his downfall?" she playfully asked.

"I hope so, Bones," he said with his big bright charm smile. "I hope so."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

The phone is ringing. It rings again. It finally stops ringing but she can hear muffled noises on the other end and a loud bang. "Hello, Angela?" she says her face full of concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Hello," Angela said.

"Angela, are you alright? I heard a bang."

"Oh, no everything's fine here sweetie, I just dropped the phone as I picked it up."

"Oh," she said as the worry lines on her concerned face slowly smoothed. "Do you have a minute? You know, I um, I need to talk to you about something but I don't want to interrupt you if you two were in the middle of something."

Angela being an expert of sniffing out details immediately and excitedly replied, "It sounds important, Booth important, and for that reason alone whatever we were doing can be put on hold. I'm ready, dish."

"Are you eating?"

"No sweetie, I meant tell me what you want talk about."

"Well I'm outside Booth's apartment…"

Angela immediately interjected, "You are? Good for you. Are you going in or coming out?"

"Well I haven't gone in yet. I'm actually still in my car out on the street and that's why I called you."

"So you're finally ready to talk to him but you're getting cold feet? I understand completely why you called me."

"You do?" she asked quizzically.

"Of course, you just need some coaching. Here's what you should do…"

A few minutes later and some serious last minute coaching from Angela she finally was standing in front of Booth's door. However a little bit of doubt was seeping back in.

'_Come on. Why is this so hard? This is Booth. I've talked to Booth practically every day for a couple of years now. Maybe he's not home…nope, he's home I can hear the television. Can't get out of it with that excuse. Why am I afraid? What's the worst that could happen? I could get hurt. Well yeah that's the worst that could happen. Yeah, but living with regret could hurt just as much. Well here goes nothing. No. Here goes everything.'_ She knocked on his door.

"Hi Bones," he said with a smile. He clearly wasn't expecting to see her that night but was pleasantly surprised nonetheless. "Come on in," as he held the door and motioned with his hand to come in. "Hey Parker, guess who's here."

Parker Booth bounded off the couch and came running towards the door. "Hiya Dr. Bones," he said emphatically with a wave of his hand accompanied by a big smile and then turned to run back to the couch to watch tv.

"Oh Booth, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to interrupt your time with Parker. I didn't know he was here. I should go."

"Nonsense," he replied while taking her coat. "We were just watching a Disney movie. You're more than welcome to stay and watch it with us." He motioned to the couch and as they walked he guided her like he always does with his hand at the small of her back.

"So what are we watching?" she asked.

"The Incredibles," Parker said enthusiastically. "It's one of my most favorite movies because it's about super heroes."

Booth smiled and tussled his son's hair with his hand while turning to his partner, "He loves his superheroes."

She thought about telling him that anthropologically speaking it was very normal for young children to idolize heroes as role models but she decided to just observe the playful interactions between father and son. A broad smile found residence on her face as they both were laughing during what she surmised was a comic ploy typical in children's entertainment.

She sighed as she glanced over at the movie and then back at her partner. She marveled at how adept Booth was at balancing work and family and how even with the horrors that they faced every day he could still find time to laugh like a child. _'I wonder if I could be like that if I were ever a parent.'_

When the movie was over Parker had asked her if she liked it and she nodded knowing full well that she had barely seen any of it but she remembered a conversation around Christmas time about the innocence of childhood and sometimes a falsehood was in order.

"Who was your favorite character?" she asked.

"Dash because he can run super fast and he can run on water," he said without hesitation. "Isn't that amazing?"

"Incredible even. Ok bud, why don't you run superfast into the bathroom and start getting ready for bed," Booth said. He looked over at his partner and told her that she could stay around if she didn't have anywhere to go.

She settled back into the couch and looked around his apartment noticing how it was decorated. She had only been here a few times but she never was alone to actually examine what it looked like. _'It fits him.'_

Parker came running back out in his Batman pajamas complete with a velcro cape on the back. "Goodnight Dr. Bones," he said as he raced off to his room while grabbing his stuffed Spiderman on the way.

Booth finally came back to see her feet snuggled under a throw and a contemplative expression on her face. "Would you like a drink?"

"Sure, do you have any wine?"

"It's funny you should ask, I usually don't have wine but my neighbor just came back from Chile and he brought me a bottle of some sort of red wine. I'll be right back."

He returned with two full glasses and a half empty bottle. "I think this might be the smallest bottle of wine I've ever seen," he chuckled.

"You know," she paused as she took a sip, "you never even asked me why I came by. You just invited me in like it was the most natural thing in the world."

"Well Bones, we spend an inordinate amount of time together. It didn't seem odd to me at all. Why do you ask? Is there a reason you came over?"

"Well," she paused to ensure that the statement would be phrased correctly, "I've been meaning to talk to you. I know it's not really my business but why didn't Rebecca want to marry you?"

"I've told you before that she just didn't." His face was serious.

She sipped some more of her wine and shifted her body so she was looking straight at him instead of angled. "I understand that you're uncomfortable talking about it but it's important to me because it's part of a puzzle that I don't understand."

He knew that she wasn't being malicious or prying so he took a deep breath. "She thought I'd never be around because of my job and ultimately we wanted different things out of life."

"Like what?" She tried to consciously soften her features as much as possible hoping he'd open up more.

"I wanted to do what was right, you know? I was raised catholic so I wanted to marry her, well actually I asked her to marry me because I felt it was the right thing to do after all she was pregnant with Parker at the time."

"Oh," she said knowing full well that he had told her this before but she hoped to get just a little bit more. "So were you two even in love?"

"Whoa there, Bones," he said as he put up his hands. "I'm not sure I can even answer that question."

"Okay then, how long had you two been going out?" She could sense how difficult it was for him to talk about it.

"We had been going out for awhile."

"When you impregnated her out of wedlock?"

"Geez Bones, can you show some compassion? It's a part of my life that's painful. You can't just go through haphazardly poking people's emotions with a stick just to see what happens, alright?"

"I'm sorry Booth," she replied.

There was a semi-uncomfortable silence. She finished her wine seemingly to get up the courage for her next question.

"Do you think you would ever get back together with her?"

He rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. "No Bones. I don't"

"Even if she wanted to for Parker's sake?" _'Holy shit. There. I said it. There's no turning back now.'_

He furrowed his brow. His mouth was agape and his eyes darted around the room.

She knew she had dropped a bomb in his house, in his own living room even. "I mean I know she's involved with Captain Fantastic or whatever but have you ever thought about it?" _'Shit! I hope I didn't just plant a seed. I know I did. I must've because otherwise he would've said something by now. Why did I listen to you Angela?'_

He finally gazed over at his partner's concerned face. He saw her lips pulled so tight that they almost weren't visible. His brain had been spinning so quickly he felt as if his skull was a mud puddle and his brain was an old beat up car stuck in that puddle spinning its tires so fast that smoke was billowing out of his hair.

"Say something Booth!" she yelled as she realized her heart was speeding out of control and soon to burst right through her sternum.

He slowly started to smile. It was his megawatt full blown charm smile that he only reserved for special occasions. "You're jealous of Rebecca, aren't you?"

She stood up so she was now looking down at his face. She was breathing heavy and she could feel her cheeks flush. "I am not jealous," she retorted as if she were trying to convince herself it was true. "It was just my scientific curiosity that's all."

He stood up to meet her eye to eye. "You are jealous because you're worried that somehow Rebecca and I will get back together," he chuckled, "and then you and I won't be able to spend as much time together."

"Are you really that dense?" she said as she sounded slightly confused.

"Wait a minute," he stammered, "what?"

She grabbed his collar and pulled him into a passionate kiss. After a second he finally kissed back as he felt her mouth open and her tongue slowly poke its way through his lips. She ran one of her hands through his hair while the other one danced on his chest. One of his hands found the small of her back pulling her closer.

She broke their kiss and pushed away so they were no longer touching. A shocked look appeared on her face as if she couldn't understand why she kissed him. "I shouldn't have done that yet."

"Was that your scientific curiosity too?" he teased.

She hurriedly put on her shoes and grabbed her coat. "I have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait a second," he said as he reached for her hand but she opened the door and left. "What did you mean yet?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

Jeffersonian platform

Special Agent Seeley Booth swipes his security card allowing him to continue up the stairs. He notices Hodgins and Zack standing on the platform apparently in a heated debate.

"Zack you must be crazy," Hodgins said in an exasperated tone hands flung in the air. "There's no way that a Cylon could kick a T-1000's ass."

Zack retorted, "A T-1000 doesn't have an ass as an ass would imply a rectum and a T-1000 doesn't have a rectum."

"Rectum, damn near killed him," Booth laughed to himself as he used his uncle's favorite joke while Hodgins and Zack turned to look at him. "What? I heard a comment about a rectum and couldn't resist."

"Anyway G-Man," Hodgins said, "So Booth, who do you think is tougher, a Cylon from Battlestar Galactica or a T-1000 from the Terminator movies?"

"Battlestar Galactica? I used to love that show when it first came out, what was that almost 30 years ago?"

"Agent Booth," Zack said, "unfortunately we're not talking about the older series, we're talking about the newer one."

"Oh, I haven't seen it but the Terminator would kick the old Cylon's asses because they were slow and cumbersome while the T-1000 was ruthless."

Hodgins laughed, "That's what I said too. But Booth you should know that in the new series the Cylons are more like cyborgs with emotions and inner turmoil."

"Well in that case I'd still take the T-1000 because no emotion equals no guilt. But overall I'd still pick the Predator movie with Ah-nuld in the jungle resorting to his survivalist training to get by. Boy that brings back memories. The Predator is the most bad ass species in the universe end of discussion."

With that he starts walking off to his partner's office. In the distance he can hear Hodgins starting another argument involving something called the Borg. He laughs to himself even though he has no idea what a Borg is.

He notices that her door is open so he pokes his head in. "Good morning Bones," he said with a cautious smile.

"Good morning Booth," she replied not taking her eyes off of her paperwork.

"How are doing this morning?"

"I'm fine Booth," she said as she finally looked up at him momentarily before returning to her paperwork. "How are you?"

"Well to be honest I didn't sleep well. I spent most of the night tossing and turning because I couldn't get comfortable."

"Uh huh," she said nonchalantly.

"I think I had too much on my mind."

"Uh huh," she replied again.

"Bones," he said rather loudly trying to get her attention. "I said I couldn't sleep last night because I was thinking about you all night."

"I know," she said as she looked up at him while folding her arms across her chest in a defensive pose. "I'm sorry I kissed you. I shouldn't have done that."

"Yet," he said. "Last night you said you shouldn't have done that yet."

"I did?" She knew that she had but she had hoped he didn't hear it. "It was a moment of weakness. Don't worry it won't happen again."

"Bones, this is the second time we've kissed now and this time there wasn't a puckish Assistant U.S. Attorney. I think you like kissing me."

"Booth, I told you then and I'll tell you again that kissing you under the mistletoe was like kissing my brother."

"Yeah," he grinned. "But what about the fact that I ended up with your gum in my mouth that time and what about last night when you shoved your tongue done my throat?"

"It's physically impossible to shove my tongue down your throat. My tongue would need to be so large that I probably wouldn't even be able to speak."

He chuckled.

"And besides," she continued with a playful smile, "you didn't seem to mind it last night."

His cheeks flushed and his mouth opened like he was trying to come up with a retort but couldn't speak.

"What's the matter Booth," she said teasingly, "has a feline taken your tongue?"

"No a cat hasn't got my tongue," he said with a chuckle as his face then turned serious. "Last night, you came over and started asking about Rebecca and then I surmised you were jealous and then you kissed me. Is that correct?"

"That is fairly accurate, except the part where you incorrectly concluded that I was jealous."

"So if you weren't jealous than why was the kiss pre-meditated?"

"Pre-meditated?" she asked quizzically.

"Yeah, you said so yourself, last night that I didn't ask you why you came over when you clearly came over to gather evidence about Rebecca and then kiss me."

"That is clearly conjecture as you don't have all the facts."

He leaned back in the chair across from her desk with a smug look on his face, "Enlighten me."

"We're partners nothing more."

"That's it?" he stammered. "That's all of the facts? You've got to be kidding."

"Booth, you drew a line. I crossed it momentarily and when I realized that occurred I quickly uncrossed it."

Booth sighed under his breath, "frigging line."

"You know what Bones? I think that you're scared of letting someone into your private inner sanctum and rather than deal with issues and emotions that are complex and illogical you jump under the protection of 'crossing the line' because you know it will make me remember that the world is a dangerous place and one of us could get hurt by proxy of our jobs."

She was taken aback by this insight and leaned back in her chair with a perplexed expression on her face as she bit her lower lip.

There were several minutes of silence before Booth finally spoke up again.

"Listen," he said softly and apologetically, "I know things are awkward right now even though we ourselves have made them that way, but the truth of the matter is, is that I want you in my life whether you're my partner, friend, or whatever.

"I don't want to have this partnership dissolve because a few biological urges pop up every so often because we work well together Bones. I'd give you some space and time to make sure you're comfortable but that print you found at the victim's house was identified and I have a search warrant."

"Thank you," she said. "Let's go do what we do."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

Booth knocked on the door, "FBI. Is anyone home?"

"Booth there are no cars out front and there's no garage so clearly no-one's home."

"I know Bones but there are certain protocols I have to follow so bear with me."

"You mean like Miranda rights?"

"Yes and like declaring that I'm FBI while showing somebody my badge. And you're right there's clearly no-one home."

"Of course I'm right," she said with a smile. "As a forensic anthropologist I'm very observant."

"I know you are Bones now stand back," he said as he kicked open the door. "FBI! I have a warrant."

"If you already know that there's no-one home why do you have to keep announcing yourself?"

Booth just rolled his eyes and sighed. After a few minutes the house had been conclusively deemed as empty.

"What did you say this guy did for a living?" she asked while she walked into a room that was teeming with art supplies.

"He runs a pawn shop."

"Booth," she said quizzically at she examined a framed painting leaning on a workbench, "this frame is approximately thirty-eight inches tall and forty-six inches across."

"That's the same size as the one missing from the Champlain's house. I'm having him brought in."

XXXXXX

_Interrogation room_

"So Mr. Heffernan, how well do you know Sam and Mary Champlain?"

"I've known Sam for about seven years. He's a retired CPA but he kept doing my taxes anyway. I think he kept on a few clients just to supplement his social security income."

"Did you know that they were missing?"

"Yeah, I was the one who called it in."

"You called it in?" Brennan asked while trying to formulate why a murderer would then report his victims as missing unless he felt guilty.

"Yeah I called it in. I usually hear from Sam once a month and when I realized I hadn't heard from him in a while I tried contacting him but I never got a response so I reported them missing."

"Well they're not missing anymore," Booth said sternly while gritting his teeth. "They were murdered, dismembered and dumped into a pond."

Ray Heffernan turned a pale white. "Oh my God, who would want to kill them? They were very quiet and very kind."

Booth shook his head, "You tell me. We've got one of your fingerprints at the house and an area of faded wallpaper that fits a painting that you have at your house."

"Ok," he said as he nervously played with his fingers. "I'll admit I took the painting but let me explain something about that painting.

"When I first went to Sam's house to do my taxes, it was in his little home office. I was an art history major and I thought it was a bit depressing to be hung up on the wall like that. I took a closer look and I recognized the painting as Rembrandt's _Landschaft mit Obelisk._ This might not mean much to you but it was one of the paintings that was stolen from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum up in Boston about 20 years ago."

"The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum?" Booth exclaimed with his eyes wide open. "Seriously?"

"Why is the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum important?" Brennan asked.

"Bones, in 1990, three thieves dressed as policemen stole 13 paintings and none of them have been found. It's considered one of the biggest art thefts in the world."

"Some of these paintings are worth millions," Heffernan added.

"Which gives you motive," Booth countered.

"Again I can explain. Over the years Sam and I had become good friends sending email jokes and such. So like I said before after I realized that I hadn't heard from him in awhile I went over there to check on things. His car was in the driveway but there was nobody home. The backdoor was unlocked so I let myself in to check inside to make sure nothing bad had happened to them. That was when I realized they were missing."

"How did you make that leap?"

"Let me explain. Mary Champlain was a tidy woman almost to a fault. She dusted her house once a week, never fail. I noticed a considerable amount of dust build up so I knew something must have happened."

"So then why not alert the authorities right away?" Brennan asked.

"I was about to and then I remembered the painting. Sam and Mary never had any kids and if they were missing or perhaps even dead I knew it wouldn't take long for an estate sale to take place. As a pawn broker I see plenty of estate stuff come my way. I couldn't bear to think of that painting finding its way to some other house."

"Selling a stolen painting can be quite precarious."

"I wasn't going to sell it. I wanted to prove that it was genuine and then I was going to return it to the museum and collect the reward money."

"Were you able to authenticate it?" Brennan asked.

"To an extent. What I mean to say is that yes the brush strokes look original and the paint is made the same way Rembrandt would've made it back in the 1600s."

"Okay, so you're saying you found them missing and took the painting to collect the reward money. Do you think they were involved in the theft?"

"Never," Heffernan said defiantly shaking his head. "Sam told me he bought it in an estate sale for 200 about 10 years ago. And I believe him."

"Mr. Heffernan, can I see your shoes?" Brennan asked. He complied and she turned to Booth after a quick look. "It's not a match. The print we found was size nine and this shoe is a 10 ½."

"I told you I didn't do it."

"So you took the painting but then called the authorities to report them missing anonymously so they couldn't tie you to their house."

"I'm not stupid. I knew that if the authorities found the painting on me as I filed a missing persons report that the painting would be confiscated and probably locked up in some evidence vault never to be seen again.

"I'll admit to stealing the painting and trespassing but I didn't commit murder."

"If it wasn't him then who else would have had access to their house?" Brennan asked.

"I can't give you any help with that but I know for a fact that I wasn't the only client that Sam kept working with."

"I'll check their files," Booth said. "Do you think Angela can authenticate that painting?"

"I'm sure she can but what about him and his reward money?"

"That's not up to me to decide Bones."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

Dr. Temperance Brennan was re-reading her latest chapter in her apartment when she was interrupted by a knock on the door. She glanced at the clock and realized that only one person would show up at her apartment unannounced after 9:00 at night.

She decided to play coy and with a twinkle in her eye and a smirk on her face she asked, "Who is it?"

Now Special Agent Seeley Booth noticed that the light emanating from her peephole had just been blocked which he knew was because she was looking at him. He forced his smile from his lips and declared in a serious tone, "FBI. Is anyone home?"

He heard a snort from the other side of the door as it slowly opened.

"Booth," she said after calming herself from the laugh that had just escaped her mouth. "What can I do for you?"

"Bones," he said quizzically, "did you just make a snort type noise?"

"Define snort."

"Never mind," he said as he held up the bag filled with takeout. "I know you're hungry as you probably skipped dinner so I brought over some Thai."

"Come on in and make yourself comfortable. Would like a beer?"

"Sure," he said as he watched her walk into the kitchen. He swore her hips were moving with a little more swagger to them than usual and exhaled sharply trying to recompose himself.

She returned with their beers and glanced at the numerous takeout containers spread out on her coffee table.

"I'm not sure you brought enough food."

He looked up at her studying her face before he realized she was trying to be sarcastic. He let out a small chuckle.

"Whatever we don't eat, you can save for leftovers."

They started eating and laughed at a couple of humorous anecdotes they shared. She giggled like a little girl when he dropped some shrimp covered in cashew sauce onto his tie leaving an ominous stain.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked. "It's not funny. I'm not sure I'll be able to get it out."

"I'm only laughing because you got Thai food on your tie so now you have tie food instead of Thai food."

"I think you're cut off," he said motioning to her beer bottle. "How many have you had?"

"This is only my third one, Booth. Do you think I'm laughing because I'm inebriated? Because I'm actually pretty sober."

"Bones," he said cautiously, "why did you say yet?"

"I'm not ready to talk about that," she said firmly. "I'm still sorting through the data."

"Data?"

"Yes Booth, data as in facts, evidence."

"Am I part of the sorting process?"

She could feel the heat from cheeks blushing and she knew that she didn't need to answer as the answer was plain to see.

"So have you gathered enough evidence?"

She paused for a moment and nibbled on her lower lip while analyzing the question. She glanced over at him ready to answer when she noticed he was staring at her lips.

A playful smirk crept onto face. "I'm not sure but more evidence is always better."

"Is there any way I can help?" he said as he slowly started moving closer to her. "I mean I'm an FBI agent and I could probably get a warrant."

She chuckled softly as she stared into his chocolate eyes.

He continued to move slowly closer as he stared into her eyes. In this light he couldn't quite discern what color they were as they seemed to be a combination of blue, green, and gray but he didn't care because to him they were beautifully captivatingly complex, the epitome of Temperance Brennan.

She noticed that her chest had become tight and she was breathing very shallowly. Her throat was dry and she quickly and as discretely as possible moistened her lips with her tongue and then swallowed hard.

His heart was racing and he swore it would burst from his chest. He used to love this feeling back when he was a gambling man but he was anxious this time because what was at stake was worth far more than money.

After years of slowly inching towards each other they had gotten so close they could feel the other's breath on their faces. Finally their lips meet in a slow and gently loving manner.

_She floats like a swan  
Grace on the water  
Lips like sugar  
_

_Lips like sugar  
Just when you think you've caught her  
She glides across the water  
She calls for you tonight  
To share this moonlight_

Their kiss deepens and becomes more passionate. Their lips part and their tongues tenderly find each other in such a way that would still be acceptable at a church wedding.

_You'll flow down her river  
She'll ask you and you'll give her  
Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses  
Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses_

His hand has moved up to cup her cheek as gently as possible and his other hand has found a home nestled on the back of her neck entwined in her auburn locks.

_She knows what she knows  
I know what she's thinking  
Sugar kisses  
Sugar kisses  
Just when you think she's yours  
She's flown to other shores  
To laugh at how you break  
And melt into this lake_

Her hand has started to run through his hair while her other hand holds onto to his arm that is cupping her cheek. She squeezes his bicep and he instinctively flexes it to show off a little.

_Shell be my mirror  
Reflect what I am  
A loser and a winner  
The king of Siam  
And my Siamese twin  
Alone on the river  
Mirror kisses  
Mirror kisses_

They both smile while coming up to breathe, momentarily touching foreheads and then start kissing again.

_Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses  
Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses_

Booth reluctantly pulls away when he hears his cell phone ringing. "Booth," he answers as he motions to his partner with his hand to stop. "Yes sir," he said reluctantly. "I'll be right there. I'm sorry Bones but I've got to go."

He leans in to kiss her again only meaning it to be a quick kiss and not the five minute one it would end up being.

_Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses  
Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses_

They pause momentarily to they start walking to the door continuing to kiss while maneuvering around the furniture.

_Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses  
Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses_

"What about your tie?" she asked regarding his disheveled appearance.

"Don't worry about it," he said with a smile. "I hope this gives you your needed evidence."

"I think I need a little more," she said as she grabbed his lapels and kissed him again.

_Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses  
Lips like sugar  
Sugar kisses_

"Ok," he said, "I've really got to go."

She closed the door behind him and just leaned against it with a wide smile. Suddenly her smile was replaced by a puzzled look.

'_So, I wonder where that line went.'_

Her smile returned quickly as she went to clean up dishes.

**A/N:** I hope everyone liked it. And I don't own Echo and the Bunnymen _Lips like Sugar_ either but I felt it was appropriate. Also in there was a quick reference to The Wedding Singer and the church tongue conversation. Please review.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

Jeffersonian Platform

"Good morning Sweetie," Angela greeted her friend.

"Good morning Angela," Dr. Brennan replied trying to hold in her smile as much as possible which was ridiculous because her friend saw right through it.

"We have got to talk," she said as she motioned to her office.

Brennan was in far too good of a mood to put up a fight so she quietly walked into her office as Angela shut the door behind them.

"So, how was it?"

"How was what?"

"It."

"Ange, I don't know what that means."

"Brennan, this is me you're talking to. Don't think you can hide it from me."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," she pleaded.

"Temperance," she said as she enveloped her friend's hands in her own. "You're glowing. That can only be from two things, the first is that you knocked boots or the second is that you boarded the Booth express. Which is it?"

"I can only assume that those are euphemisms for intercourse…"

"That would be correct," Angela interrupted. "So how was it? For your sake I hope it was good and I'm mean really good."

Brennan blushed at her friend's bluntness and smiled. "I don't have to tell you every detail about my personal life."

"Yes you do," she countered. "If you don't then I'll get it out of you eventually. Veee have vays of making you talk."

"Are you trying to make fun of Eastern Europeans?"

"Sweetie, it's from a movie or something. It's not important. So spill."

Knowing full well that she couldn't get out of it, she said as she rolled her eyes, "we kissed."

Angela let out a loud squeal and clapped her hands showing approval.

Brennan was sure that there were dogs barking in the distance and garage doors opening and shutting by themselves.

"Oh my God, was he a good kisser? Because I always thought he would be."

"It was very nice and passionate but tender at the same time."

"Awwwww, who initiated?"

"I'm not sure," Brennan replied with a look of deep concentration. "I really don't remember. I think he might've but it doesn't matter because…."

Angela interjected, "Sweetie, you're glowing. You don't have to explain anymore." She was caught up in her friend's smile and the expression in her eyes that made her look like she was a million miles away.

Brennan's phone rang and she launched out of her chair to her purse to retrieve it as she crashed back into reality. That reality soon started disappearing again as she looked at the caller ID.

"Good morning Booth," she said in a singsong manner.

"Bones, I'm on my way over."

"Is everything alright?" she said as she could hear the serious tone in his voice.

"I'll explain when I get there, which will be in about ten minutes," he said trying to keep his voice from sounding too upset.

"I'll be right here waiting for you," she replied as she closed her phone.

"Everything will be fine Sweetie," Angela said as she could sense the anxiety of her friend and she figured out the gist of the conversation. "And besides you just quoted Richard Marx and anyone that does that will be okay."

"Who?" Brennan asked.

"It's not important," she said as she gave her friend a comforting hug. "But what is important is that you're together now and nothing else matters."

Brennan watched as her friend walked out of the office and waited for Booth to show up. She didn't have to wait long though as she saw him walking towards her office door.

She stood up to meet him and noticed the dark circles under his eyes. She leaned in and hugged him as he hugged her back squeezing so tightly that she could barely breathe but only for a moment before he released her slightly.

"What happened?" she asked as she made eye contact.

He pulled away from their embrace and dragged his hand over his face as he noticed his scruffily beard from not shaving since the previous morning.

"There was an incident last night," he said as he sat on her couch and put his elbows on his knees so his hands could cradle his weary head. "An incident involving another Agent, Agent Pickering, I'm not sure you've ever met him, he worked in Vice."

"Well anyway he had been undercover working for a drug kingpin when apparently his cover had been blown. The bastard didn't take kindly to the knowledge and kidnapped Pickering's family. They forced him to watch as they brutally killed his wife and children before they finally killed him too."

"I'm so sorry," she said as she sat down next to him rubbing his back. "That's awful."

"When I got the call last night the FBI were pulling in a tactical team and wanted me to be a part of it. We surrounded the place and a firefight broke out. Most of his guys were killed or taken into custody. He was just slitting Pickering's throat as we collapsed on him. We lost a few other Agents too but I was the one who took out that bastard."

She knew that he hated taking lives even though it was sometimes necessary. She caressed his forehead with her hand and slowly pulled his head to face her.

"Bones," he said choking slightly, "There's some major evil out there. I don't know what I'd do if something like that happened to you or Parker. Do you remember why I drew the line in the first place?"

"You said something about people who work in high risk situations can't be romantically involved."

"Yes I did and we're always in high risk situations…"

"Booth," she interrupted, "Just because you're afraid of something that may or may not happen doesn't hold credence that we can't be together, we just have to be careful, that's all."

"I care too much for you to take that chance."

"I don't understand why, though," she said as she entwined her hands in his. "You said if something happened to myself or Parker, and you're not romantically involved with him and you're not going to shut him out of your life. You can't do anything but protect him as much as you can. You can do the same with me."

He pulled her hands to his mouth and kissed them gently. "You know Bones, you're making a lot of sense," he said with a wry smile.

"I'm just presenting the investigator with the facts, that's all," she said with a crooked smile.

"I knew I loved you for a reason," he said not cognizant of the fact that he just admitted that he loved her.

Her eyes glistened as she immediately processed that information. She knew love was an irrational emotion and she realized that she had never really been in love before and wasn't positive she was now. She knew that she cared deeply for him but to label it love seemed premature.

"I would never do anything to hurt you," she said as she smiled as she slowly pulled him in for a kiss.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

As the partners exited her office, Brennan could see Angela's smile from across the platform and smiled back silently assuring her friend that everything was ok.

"Dr. Brennan," Zack said from his workstation. "Agent Booth, I'm pleased that you're here too. I've matched the serrations on the victim's bones to a generic hack saw."

"You couldn't match it to a manufacturer?"

"No," he said flatly. "It seems that there is only one basic blade type. The only anomaly is that there is one tooth of the blade that protrudes away from the row of teeth."

"Is that everything Zack?" Brennan asked.

"Yes, but I will be able to confirm whether a tool that you find was indeed the tool used."

"Well, all we need is the original saw then," Booth said.

Hodgins sauntered over to the trio with a smirk on his face. "Well I've at least found something useful," he said with a teasing expression aimed at Zack.

"The footprint you found on the envelope had some really great particulates. There are traces of red brick dust and crushed pink granite."

"And that helps us how?" Booth asked.

Zack chimed in with a knowing smile, "Agent Booth, red brick dust is commonly used in European clay tennis courts. American red clay is generally combined with a local stone to minimize the maintenance and drying time."

"You played tennis?" Hodgins asked incredulously.

"No, but my older brothers did and I always ended up retrieving the wayward balls that found their way over the fence. It was only natural that while I waited I examined the court's surface."

"You were a ball shagger," Hodgins said through a huge smile.

"So someone had been on or near a tennis court before going to the Champlain's house," Brennan said.

"There was also an exorbitant amount of sodium nitrate residue or as it's commonly referred to Chilean saltpeter."

"Saltpeter?" Booth asked. "As in gunpowder and rocket fuel?"

"Well that's more commonly potassium nitrate whereas sodium nitrate is used in the manufacture of pottery enamels and fertilizers."

"Thanks Hodgins," Booth said as he turned to his partner but was interrupted by Hodgins throwing his arms in the air yelling "King of the Lab!"

"The owner of the shoe has to be a member or employee of the country club where the Champlain's were dumped," Booth said. "They had tennis courts and a golf course that would require a lot of fertilizer to keep it lush and green."

The partners turned to walk away leaving Zack and Hodgins to bicker between themselves about how quick the reign of the lab would last.

Angela stopped them before they had left the platform.

"I wanted to tell you that I authenticated that painting," Angela said.

"So it really is from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum?" Booth asked.

"It didn't take long to authenticate it here because we're the Mecca of modern technology."

"So how were you able to prove it's an original?" Brennan asked.

"Your pawn broker knows his stuff and I confirmed that the paint was prepared in the same manner Rembrandt would have and an x-ray comparison proved the brush strokes to be a match to some of his other works.

"I also had Hodgins take a miniscule sample of canvas from the backing from the frame and he confirmed that it was almost 400 years old."

She smiled as she looked to the main area of the platform as they heard Hodgins proclaim again that he was "King of the Lab!"

"What can you say, boys will be boys," she said with a smile.

"Thanks Angela," Brennan said.

"So what will happen to the painting now that's proven to be real?" Angela asked.

"It will definitely be returned to Boston," Booth said.

"And the reward?" she asked.

"That's not up to me but I don't think the FBI will take the museum up on the reward."

"No," Angela said, "I meant your pawnbroker."

"I don't have any control over that but I suppose a finder's fee might make his direction," he said. "Thanks Angela but we have to get going."

Angela watched as the partners exited the platform and smiled as Booth's hand found the small of Brennan's back. She knew that whatever was wrong earlier seemed to be resolved.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sam Champlain's clientele included a tennis pro that worked at Shady Pines Country Club," Booth said to his partner as they drove to the suspect's house.

"Booth," she said as her fingers intertwined with his. "It's the middle of the day I'm sure no-one will be home."

"Which is the reason we're going over there now because it's always easier to search an empty house than one with a suspect in it."

After a couple of minutes of silence he looked over at her as she was staring out the window.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's just that you said earlier that you loved me."

"I guess I did, huh?" he said with a smile on his face. "Are you analyzing data again?"

She rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand in hers.

"How long have you been in love with me?"

He exhaled slowly thinking of how to formulate his response to be as literal as possible. "I think about three years now."

"We've only known each other for a little more than that. It's completely irrational that you could have fallen in love with me that quickly."

"Actually you're right it was completely irrational," he said. "After our first case that we worked together, I actually couldn't stand you and I knew you loathed me. But while you were in Guatemala working on the mass grave I couldn't stop thinking about you.

"You were filled with fiery passion and were so stubbornly independent and you were the first woman ever to poke me in the chest trying to intimidate me. You left quite an impression."

"I didn't loathe you," she said. "I merely found you condescending and that was before I was able to go out in the field with you to truly appreciate what you do."

"I knew that I had to see you again so that's why I put in the hold for questioning request with Homeland Security."

"So you went through all of that posturing to be a hero because you were obsessed with me?"

"Um, no, that's not, well, obsessed is kind of creepy. I think I was possessed by you."

"I don't understand."

"While you were gone, I saw you everywhere," he said. "Every time I saw a woman with auburn hair I thought it was you. I smelled your perfume every time the wind changed. I saw the intense azure color of your eyes every time I looked up at the sky. I read your book dozens of times."

"And how is that not being obsessed?" she teasingly smiled.

"Well I guess I was obsessed but a few months ago I heard this song called _I will Possess your Heart_ by Death Cab for cutie and I took it be my own little anthem."

"Why?"

"Well it's about a guy who waits patiently for a girl to realize that he loves her and that he will possess her heart. It fit us and our situation."

He started humming the song and softly sang some lyrics.

_How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me.  
It's like a book elegantly bound but in a language that you can't read, just yet._

You gotta spend some time, love. You gotta spend some time with me,  
and I know that you'll find love, I will possess your heart. 

_You reject my advances and desperate plea. I won't let you let me down so easily. So easily._

_You gotta spend some time, love. You gotta spend some time with me,  
and I know that you'll find love, I will possess your heart._

"Thanks for waiting," She said as she smiled and kissed his cheek.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

"So why did he do it?" she asked.

Booth shrugged. "That'll come out when we question him."

"And for now, with the shoe, the saw with the crooked tooth, and the fact that he was a client," she said. "That's more than enough to bust him, right."

"Well that only proves he was at the scene of the crime, but so was the pawn broker," he said. "It does, however, put him at the forefront the investigation."

"I understand," she said as she nodded. "He may have just dismembered and disposed of the bodies and not actually committed murder."

"Well even if that's the case," he said as he flipped his poker chip in the air, "we've at least got him on tampering with evidence, trespassing and I'm sure Caroline will throw in a few more misdemeanors."

XXXXXX

Jeffersonian

"Dr. Brennan," Zack said as he approached her office. "The saw that you and Agent Booth retrieved is a perfect match for the serrations found on the remains."

"Thank you Zack," she said as she turned to her partner who was lounging on the couch.

"So now we're waiting on Hodgins' results on the particulates from the shoe?"

"That's all."

"How can you do it?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, how can you sit here waiting patiently for the results? I'm jumping out of my skin just waiting."

"Well you should probably keep your skin on otherwise it's going to get messy in here," she said with a wry smile. "And besides, didn't you have to wait patiently when you were a sniper?"

"Yes," he said, "but that was generally because I had to wait to establish visual confirmation for my target and I had to wait until there was a clear shot. I didn't want a stray bullet hitting anyone else by accident. I didn't want any more deaths on my head than I already had."

She walked over to him and caressed his cheek. "You waited patiently for me."

"Yeah but that nearly killed me too," he chuckled. "But I'd wait even longer if it meant I'd finally get to do this."

He tilted his head and his lips gently brushed up against hers.

"Um, am I interrupting?" Hodgins asked.

"No, we were just waiting for your results," she said as she could feel her cheeks blush.

"Well the particulates from the shoe positively match the particulates from the envelope." Hodgins said.

"By the way," he said with a fist pump, "way to go. But seriously if you two need some alone time you should try the Egyptian exhibit."

Booth just glared at him through clenched teeth as he watched Hodgins leave her office.

"So I guess now everyone will know," he said with a sigh.

"From what I discerned from Angela, it wasn't a matter of if but rather a matter of when."

She smiled at him and they shared a tender kiss. They broke their kiss and left her office heading over to the interrogation room at the Hoover Building.

They arrived and were sizing up their suspect through the 2-way mirror.

"So what tactic are you going to use?" she asked.

"Well my gut is telling me that for a man to kill a couple in their own home it either is about money or sex," he said.

"Since our CPA was retired and keeping up a small clientele," she stated, "we can assume it wasn't about the money."

"See now we're painting a scene," he said. "The tennis guy is having an affair with the wife and the husband catches them, a fight breaks out and the tennis guy who's twenty years younger overpowers the husband and then he kills the wife too because she's a witness."

"It's a logically constructed hypothesis," she said. "Let's see if we can't challenge it as a theory."

They enter the room and sit down silently. Brennan had been informed many interrogations ago by Booth that entering and not saying anything made the suspect sweat.

This tennis pro was not sweating.

"So Mr. Hampton," Booth finally said. "It says here that you're a tennis pro at the Shady Acres Country Club."

"That's correct."

"And your accountant is Sam Champlain?"

"That's correct."

"When was the last time you saw your accountant?"

"It's been awhile," Hampton said. "Probably a little over a year or so."

"Were you aware that both he and his wife have been missing?" Brennan asked.

"I didn't," he said while shaking his head.

"Mr. Hampton," Booth said as his voice was agitated. "I'm getting tired of these two word answers."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Alright enough of this," Booth said as he smiled at Hampton. "Let me paint a picture of what I think happened and you can stop me anytime you want to say more than two words. You were having an affair with Alice and Sam walked in. There was a struggle. You hit him in the head with the blade of a paper cutter. Alice wanted to call 911 and you hit her too. Then you dismembered the bodies and dumped them in the pond next to the country club that you worked at."

Hampton stayed silent with a bewildered look on his face.

"The bodies were cut using a hacksaw that left markings that match a saw that we found at your house," Brennan interjected. "You left a footprint in their home that had trace amounts of fertilizer and clay from a tennis court and we found a shoe that fits the imprint in your house with the same trace particulates."

Booth nodded his approval at his partner then turned back to their suspect.

"Do you have more than two words to say about that?"

"I do," he said as he nervously scratched his fingernails against the palms of his hand. "I wasn't having an affair with Alice. I was having it with Sam."

Booth sent a surprised look at his partner who seemed equally shocked.

"I didn't see that coming," he said.

"It would explain why they didn't have any kids," she replied.

"Sam and I had worked out an arrangement where I gave him tennis lessons in lieu of payment," Hampton said. "After awhile I noticed that he was unhappy in his marriage and one thing led to another."

Booth still had a quizzical look on his face but he motioned for the suspect to continue talking.

"Alice walked in on us and she grew very upset. She pulled the paper cutter blade and took a swing at Sam. As he wrestled it out of her hands she fell backwards and hit the floor sort of like a somersault. The blade had come loose and hit her head as she turned over. It was an accident.

"Sam was beside himself and he asked me to help him dispose of her body. I went back to my house to get my saw and when I returned he had gone crazy and took a swing at me. I dodged and he ran for the phone claiming he was going to call 911 saying he witnessed me murder his wife. I grabbed the paper cutter and hit him, but I only meant to stop him from calling," he said with tears running down his cheeks. "It was an accident and I couldn't believe he'd betray me like that. He told me he loved me."

"So since you didn't want to get caught you disposed of the bodies like you planned," Booth said.

Hampton nodded.

The partners left the interrogation room and looked back at their suspect.

"So does that wrinkle prove or disprove my theory," Booth asked.

"Well it doesn't prove your theory was correct," she replied, "but it was pretty damn close."

**A/N:** I'm thankful for everyone who put this on story alert but I'd really like some feedback so please review. I have about two more chapters in me before this one is complete.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** I still don't own anything. Well maybe the writing but the characters etc. Nope not a one. Since I'm writing this as Executive Producer/Director I'll throw in an occasional song or two as the soundtrack to the story. Thanks for the reviews and now on to the story.

Jeffersonian

"Wow," Angela said, "Am I crazy or is it extremely ironic that a crime of passion also uncovered a stolen masterpiece? I mean, what are the odds? Does anybody agree?"

"It never ceases to amaze me what can be discovered just beneath the surface," Cam said as she nodded.

"That's why I'm here," Hodgins said. "I'm the bug and slime and dirt guy. I'm always just below the surface examining what somebody else swept under the rug. Sometimes literally."

"One positive thing that came about was the new leads about the stolen paintings," Booth said. "The Bureau was able to track down the estate sale that Champlain purchased the painting from. The Boston office is continuing the investigation."

"Well here's to due process," Cam said as she raised her hand in mock toast.

"Since they have no family, how are they going to be buried?" Brennan asked.

"Probably in the ground," Zack stated matter of factly.

"To clarify, I mean I'm unsure whether they'd be buried adjacently or separately," she added.

"Well I hope they'll be buried next to each other," Angela said as she looked at the blank faces around her. "If we believe Hampton about how they died then we have to believe that Champlain was repentant about his wife's accidental murder. I mean he clearly still cared for her in some bizarre way."

"You truly are a romantic," Hodgins said as he smiled at his fiancée. "You know I love you and it would kill me if you cheated on me but it would kill me more if you never even gave me the chance to forgive you."

"I would never cheat on you Jack," Angela said as she pulled him into a hug. "And I'd do everything not to hurt you, at least not unless you were tied up," she added with a wink and a kiss.

Hodgins' eyes widened and a smile crept across his face.

"Do I need to throw cold water on you two?" Cam asked sternly. "Alright everybody, back to work."

"Dinner? 6:30?" Booth asked.

"Sure but pick me up at 6:00 instead," Brennan said as she kissed him on the cheek.

He felt hurt that he only got a little peck on the cheek but then realized that she wasn't used to public displays of attention yet. _'That will certainly change soon enough.'_

A few hours later they were sitting in the Royal Diner awaiting their food.

"You know, this certainly adds to my cynicism regarding marriage?"

"True, but this one didn't end in divorce so you can't pad your statistics," he said.

"Marital infidelity and a double murder are more severe than divorce!" she retorted.

"I wasn't saying they aren't," he said. "I'm just saying that technically they didn't get divorced."

"Well it would have been less messy if they had gotten a divorce."

"Less physically messy but certainly more emotionally messy," he replied.

"So they both would have been traumatized but at least they'd be alive," she countered. "I don't understand you sometimes."

He took a sip of coffee before speaking again. "What don't you understand?"

"How you can possibly postulate that murder is a better end result than divorce?"

"Bones, I'm not saying that at all," he said as he squirted some ketchup on his plate and salted his fries. "What I'm saying is that infidelity to me is almost on par with murder and sometimes more destructive."

"More destructive than murder?" she asked as she stole a fry from his plate. "How can you sit here with a straight face and compare the two?"

"Let's continue this using the Champlain's as an example, they don't have kids or any close family so there's no peripheral damage as there would be in divorce."

"So let me get this straight," she said as she stole another fry. "Hypothetically speaking, if you and I were to get married and have kids and then fell out of love, you'd murder me instead of divorcing me because it would be less messy? How about the emotional damage that would inflict on our children?"

"I thought you were against marriage and didn't want kids," he said with an expectant smile.

"I am but that doesn't mean I haven't thought about it," she said. "How can I formulate an opinion if I don't weigh out the benefits and disadvantages?"

"To answer your hypothetical theory," he said as his hand caught hers trying to steal another fry. "If we were to get married and have kids, and don't think I didn't catch the fact that you mentioned kids meaning many and not a kid meaning one, we would never ever fall out of love. And I could never hurt you let alone murder you."

"Well that's sweet of you to want me in one piece," she said with wry smile as she used her free hand to rescue the trapped fry from her other hand.

"And besides, I'm entering this relationship knowing how you feel about marriage and kids and that's fine with me. I don't need a piece of paper to be committed," he said. "Although it would be a nice bonus but it wouldn't be necessary."

"It wouldn't?" she said as she raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"We could always just jump over a broom like Angela did in Fiji," he said as he shined his charm smile.

_Childhood living is easy to do  
The things you wanted I bought them for you  
Graceless lady you know who I am  
You know I can't let you slide through my hands_

"Somehow I don't think your parents would approve."

_Wild horses couldn't drag me away  
Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away_

"When it comes to you, I tune out the rest of the world so I can focus only on you," he said.

_I watched you suffer a dull aching pain  
Now you decided to show me the same  
No sweeping exits or offstage lines  
Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind_

"So where do we go from here?" she asked. "Your place or mine?"

"It doesn't matter as long as I'm with you," he said as he kissed the top of her hand that he still held from the attempted fry theft.

_Wild horses couldn't drag me away  
Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away_

"I knew you tough guys were all very sentimental," she said with a smile.

_I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie  
I have my freedom but I don't have much time  
Faith has been broken, tears must be cried  
Lets do some living after we die_

"I'm really glad you didn't sail off with Sully."

"Me too," she said while nodding. "I never would've realized how I feel for you."

_Wild horses couldn't drag me away  
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them some day_

"And I never would've been able to do this," as he leaned across the table and kissed her for approximately 15 steamboats. They were only interrupted by the crash of a dropped dish from behind the counter and the voice of the guilty waitress saying "about time."

_Wild horses couldn't drag me away  
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them some day_

Brennan leaned over to his ear and whispered, "Everything happens eventually."

_Fin_

**A/N:** I actually wrote this chapter first and then started at the beginning working forward. I'd like to congratulate TemporalBONES for guessing that this story was titled after the Rolling Stones' _Wild Horses_, although I actually prefer the Sunday's version of it. (If you haven't heard it you can find it on youtube.) I know I promised that there would be two more chapters but it only ended up being one. Thanks to everyone who liked this and let me know if I should go back to oneshots or start up another multi-chapter.


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